


The Recital

by partsguy



Series: Reunion [4]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partsguy/pseuds/partsguy
Summary: Morse finally gets Joan to the recital and it goes as well as he had expected. But why is Joan so interested in his house?
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday
Series: Reunion [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729336





	The Recital

The Recital

I was miserable, from the time I walked in the door and turned the light switch in the front room. I had a feeling something was wrong. At first, I hadn’t noticed, or paid any attention to it. Now however it was glaringly apparent. Something wasn’t right, there was the tiniest of feeling that something was missing. Part of being a good policeman is sensing the unusual, the odd if you will.

So I followed up my instincts and went throughout the house, checking, just in case. Glancing around, all the familiar objects seemed to be in place, undisturbed. There was no indication that anyone had been in my house in my absence. In fact it didn’t seem that it was something tangible that was missing. Somehow tonight the comfortable familiarity just wasn’t there, it just didn’t “feel” right. Something was different, something I couldn’t place but nevertheless important. I had noticed the first twinges of that same feeling while driving home from Joan’s house.

Having poured myself a generous measure of Glenfiditch, I took out a new version of my favorite opera, placing it reverently on the turntable to give a listen. I was just starting my second glass when it came to me. It was right in front of me, what it was that was missing. It had been right in front of me the entire time.

While I was processing the realization the phone began to ring. I answered thinking that perhaps Joan had forgotten to tell me something. Instead I got something quite different. Different but quite normal.

“Morse”

“Sorry to bother you at this hour Inspector, but a body has been found”

“I see….just a minute while I get my notebook.”

I had a problem. Playing football, maybe attempting to play would be better, with Fred, Joan’s son, had left me disheveled. If disheveled is the proper word for a middle-aged man that’s fallen on the ground several times while playing football. Certainly I had not been properly attired for the recital that afternoon, not to mention the reception afterward. Fortunately Debbie, the sitter, was on time, in fact early according to Joan. So we hurried through a light lunch with the kids, a lunch that seemed to be enjoyed by everyone other than myself. Occasionally Joan would glance in my direction and quickly hide a smile behind her napkin. Well I’m glad she took such enjoyment from my discomfort. Then she rushed away to quickly change, or so she said. Of course, quickly is a relative term I suppose, as it seemed to me, she took an inordinate amount of time to. However I must admit the wait was worth the results, she looked stunning when she came out. It’s always been a mystery to me why it takes women so long to dress. Perhaps as a bachelor I wasn’t privy to whatever mysteries were involved, maybe best I didn’t know.

Even after she came down, I still needed to try and hurry everyone along, as we needed to swing by my house. That way I could change into something clean and respectable before continuing. Yet, there seemed to be no end to the instructions she was giving to Debbie, who was trying desperately to avoid rolling her eyes. Finally, finally, Joan was ready, and we could go. Although I think I may have hurried her a bit much on the way to the door, I could see the telltale signs of an impending eruption on her face. Fortunately it all ended well, we made it to my place without incident, and I was able to get changed with time to spare.

While I was changing Joan was wandering through the house, for what I had no idea, just passing time I assumed. For all my adult life I have been dressing myself, and, to my knowledge doing an acceptable job. Yet this afternoon, Joan wasn’t happy with my tie. Nothing would do but she had to retie it for me before we could leave. That was to my recollection the first time a woman had tied or retied a tie for me. I must confess she did an excellent job on the full Windsor knot, not better than I could, but surprisingly good.

On the way to the recital we passed the time in what seemed a very comfortable silence. She did make a few comments comparing the new house to the old one and wondered out loud whether a few things could possibly be improved upon. Idle chit chat I suppose, just passing the time. In between those comments I had the opportunity to glance over. I was impressed with a feeling of dejavu. It just seemed so right to see her in the passenger seat of the Jag again. It was if she belonged there and the years of her absence had never happened.

From the moment we pulled up to the college everything seemed to go well. Parking was convenient, the valet courteous, and the venue certainly appropriate to the performance. I had heard the young lady perform once or twice before, but today she seemed to be at the peak of her powers. My only concern was whether Joan would be bored beyond belief with this style of music. While she had in the past tolerated classical music as a sop to me, her taste used to be decidedly more modern. While I did detect a certain amount of fidgeting, if she were uncomfortable, she did a reasonable job of hiding it. I did make a note that at some point, if things between us progressed, I might have to return the favor.

For myself I must admit I wasn’t able to fully concentrate on the performance. It had been quite a few years since anyone had accompanied me to such an event. Anyone whose enjoyment was a consideration at any rate. Quite a novel experience for me, one that would take some getting used to.

The reception was something that I had been looking forward to all week. Not just because it was unusual that I was invited to attend, a summons almost, but for the most juvenile of reasons. I was looking forward to showing off Joan to those who I assumed would be in attendance. Yet the first time I went to introduce her I didn’t know what to say. Did I introduce her as Mrs. Prewitt?, as Joan?, or how? After a few uncomfortable moments, Joan herself solved the issue by introducing herself as “Joan, an old friend of Morse’s.” I could have kissed her on the spot, instead I settled for draping my arm casually around her waist. The rest of the event went swimmingly. We met a few people that I knew to varying degrees, made the obligatory meet with the deputy commissioner, who had a couple of generic questions to ask before we could move on, and generally made it through without any notable gaffes.

One moment stood out from the rest, however. The first was just as we were getting another glass, when I heard a voice say “Joan. Joan Prewitt!” We both turned in the direction of the voice to see a man, fortyish, pushing his way through the crowd in our direction. I could see Joan tensing although the expression on her face never changed. She seized the initiative by extending her hand and saying to him, “why Graham, what a pleasure to see you here today.” Although he quickly covered himself, he was obviously surprised to see her with me, rather than her husband. I was introduced as “my dear old friend Morse.” They carried on a brief conversation about the recital and mutual acquaintances for several minutes before he excused himself and went off into the crowd. In the meantime I had taken the opportunity to down about half of my drink. Joan appeared completely nonplussed, in fact before we began to resume mingling, she said to me, “bound to happen wasn’t it?” Despite my better judgement I had to ask who he was. “Oh, he’s a good friend of my husband. They worked together before Robert was posted. He has a lovely friend, Susan, you’d probably like her. Wonder where she was, I’d love to have seen her.” As we dove back into the scrum, I had the feeling that I had a lot of catching up to do. That Joan’s life had moved forward much more than just a couple of children. That perhaps it was me on display rather than her.

The other moment was meeting a pair of men I had known from many years before. At that time they had been associated in some nebulous fashion with Special Branch. Now they didn’t bother giving any clue who, if anybody they were working for. They introduced themselves making a point, in the most gracious way possible, of making it clear that they knew who Joan was, and that we had a history. Other than that they were completely circumspect.

While waiting for the valet to bring the Jag back around I felt quite pleased about the way the afternoon had gone, one of the most enjoyable in quite some time. So much so that I didn’t want it to end then. After we had gotten into the car, I asked Joan whether she was ready to go home. To my relief she just smiled and shook her head “no”. Being a bit overdressed for a park we visited one of the museums. Afterwards however we had to go to her home as she wanted to have dinner with her kids.

When we pulled up in front of the house, I was disappointed. However she did invite me to stay for dinner as Debbie had been instructed to prepare for all of us. The food itself was certainly tasty, not five stars but perfectly adequate. Yet it was something about the atmosphere which held my interest. Joan and her children had the easy familiarity which I remembered from years ago in her parents’ home. Even Debbie seemed to fit right in almost like one of the family. Again I likened it to my days as Inspector Thursdays bagman. As for myself, although Joan tried hard to make me at home, I was still an outsider. I shouldn’t have expected anything different I suppose, certainly not at this point.

The trip home was made almost automatically, lulled by the quiet comfort of the aging Jag. Along the way I went back over the day, reviewing what had been an eventful day. From being sprawled facedown in Joan’s backyard, to having Joan on my arm in formal dress. The few miles went by effortlessly as I basked in the warmth of having had what was admittedly a good day. Yet, there was something, I wasn’t sure what it was, lurking in the back of my consciousness. Something tiny, with no form, but it was there. Even so I parked the Jag, made sure it was locked and went into my house, just pausing to turn on the lights.

I had made sure that I knew the location where the body had been found and drove leisurely towards it. There was no need to hurry, Lewis would have made sure that nothing was disturbed and the SOCO team would already be at work. So I allowed my mind to wander a bit. Back to what had been bothering me almost from the time I had left Joan’s home. It had become clear to me, almost an epiphany, during my second drink, it was the contrast between my solitary life, and being with Joan and her family. Was it good or was it bad? I knew that I couldn’t have Joan without her family. The chance for that had gone by the wayside years before. It had been on a night much like this one. I had come home from what had been several days of exhausting work following some horrendous crime. It was the worst time in my entire career. I was exhausted, overstressed, had quickly gotten roaring drunk, and…….I had taken it out on her. Words and actions that were totally uncalled for, far over the line. Things I could never forgive myself for and thought neither could she. But ten years is indeed a long time, and people perhaps are forgiving, even to those who don’t deserve it.

I saw the reflections of the flashing lights against the buildings first. Then a constable with a torch stopped me, and after verifying my identification, directed me where to park.


End file.
